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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22720441">Red Room</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tcheschire/pseuds/tcheschire'>tcheschire</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime &amp; Manga)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AKA Slavery, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Moulin Rouge! Fusion, Angst and Romance, Character Death, Drug Use, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied Purchase of Human Beings, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Indentured Servitude, Polyamory, Prostitution, Reader-Insert, Sex Work, Terminal Illnesses, You Guys Know What Moulin Rouge Is About, kind of, whorehouse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 15:47:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,041</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22720441</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tcheschire/pseuds/tcheschire</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>I'll meet you in the red room, close the door and dim the lights. I will be yours truly if indeed the price is right.</i>
</p><p>Something is missing from his work. At the suggestion of his mentor, naive young painter Mutou Yuugi travels to faraway locales in search of something - something that can be shown, but not seen. When he lands in a Moroccan bordello, he thinks he might just have found it in the form of a young dancer who dreams of something more.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Atem (Yu-Gi-Oh)/Reader, Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler/Kujaku Mai | Mai Valentine, Mutou Yuugi/Reader, Mutou Yuugi/Reader/Atem</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Nature Boy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was a mild day, by all accounts. They had been, lately. Atem woke to the barest of breezes stirring the linen curtains, the sunlight speckling the alabaster floors of his suite. With a yawn and a mighty stretch, he tore himself from the bed, padding across to a vanity that held a washbasin and splashing his face.<br/>
<br/>
He cleaned and dressed himself, the gold buttons of his waistcoat glinting in the morning sun. First, he would find breakfast, and then he would find Mahad; his advisor would certainly be able to update him on the duties of the day.<br/>
<br/>
And, perhaps, on the progress of their newest acquisition.<br/>
<br/>
Breakfast was easy to find, and simple – Mahad was more difficult. Which was odd;  Mahad normally had a hand in the general goings-about of the day, and it was common by this time in the day for at least half of the palace staff to have seen him. Today, however, neither hide nor hair had been seen, and Atem had walked his normal route, traded pleasantries with the normal staff…and still nothing.<br/>
<br/>
Finally, it was tracing his steps back to the beginning where he found his advisor: the kitchens.<br/>
<br/>
Mahad was never a yeller. He was scarcely a stern man, genial and polite and overall a pleasant presence that family and staff and public alike adored. If ever Mahad’s ire rose, the instigator would have the distinct dissatisfaction to gaze upon a crushingly disappointed face. This morning, that face waxed chapfallen not at the head chef, who had received his share, but his son.<br/>
<br/>
The boy stood his ground, shoulders held steady in the way of teenagers, and he rose his chin. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” he insisted. “He asked for them, and I knew how to make them. It isn’t my place to question, it’s my place to serve.”<br/>
<br/>
A sigh that edged on impatient found its way out of Mahad’s mouth; it clearly wasn’t his first of the conversation. “But if you begin to receive unusual orders, it <em>is</em> your responsibility to bring it to your father, or a steward, or even to myself,” he explained, ever-calm. Mahad had his experience in dealing with teenagers, but the truculence was foreign to him.<br/>
<br/>
Here the boy hesitated, and he clearly objected with some part of what Mahad had said. Finally, he averted his gaze and grumbled under his breath, “Didn’t seem too unusual for his type.” He raised his eyes again. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” he repeated firmly, as though his insistence made it so.<br/>
<br/>
Mahad opened his mouth, either to let another sigh escape or another reprimand, but before he had the chance Atem made himself known. “Let the boy continue his work. Go on, then,” he directed at the boy, who scurried off back into the heat of the kitchen. “What’s this, then?”<br/>
<br/>
A dubious and mildly sour look crossed Mahad’s face at the boy’s retreat, but he said nothing for it. “I went this morning to check on the progress of that painter, and I discovered something distressing about his eating habits of late – so I came here to investigate. Amir not only confirmed the rumor, but informed me he was supplying your painter.”<br/>
<br/>
“Supplying with what? Come, tell me about it while we walk – I wanted to check on him anyway. I’d like to hear of his progress.”<br/>
<br/>
Another sigh. “That’s the thing. You may have to wait yet longer.”<br/>
<br/>
The walk was a short one but felt much longer – Mahad filled him in on the little details, discretely leaving out his larger concerns and leaving them heavily implicit. Atem nodded his understanding, and held up a hand when they reached the door of the painter’s quarters; since bringing him back to Egypt from Morocco, Atem had allowed the young man the grace of his own residence within the royal complex, a modest suite of rooms in a corner of the palace for privacy and security. He had access to the major areas of the palace, a balcony with a view overlooking the coast, and the freedom to roam as he pleased.<br/>
<br/>
From what Mahad reported, he was not taking advantage of these privileges, instead opting to hole himself away into the dark recesses of his bedroom.<br/>
<br/>
Mahad hovered outside of the door while Atem knocked briefly then entered without waiting for a response. The sun peeked through the drawn curtains in patches, scattering about the walls and the floor; through the dim light, Atem could make out signs of life: empty cups and serving trays with bits of stale bread, ink tablets and used brushes, painted silks and parchments of varying degrees of completion draped over every surface creating a menagerie of shades of black and grey.<br/>
<br/>
Atem frowned. That was perhaps most concerning: although it was not the primary reason he had extended an offer to the young man, he had hoped to see more of the vibrant and delicate colors that splashed across the ink paintings, not this somber treatment.<br/>
<br/>
“Yuugi?” he called, striding across the ceramic floor to draw the curtains. There was no sound, but he felt a stirring in an adjoining room in answer. He made his way into the bedroom, squinting against the dark, and was hit with the scent of an unwashed body. “Yuugi?”<br/>
<br/>
Here he found more silks and scrolls, and far more pewter serving platters strewn about, littered with small paper wrappers. Picking one up between two fingers, he sniffed daintily, and his frown deepened.<br/>
<br/>
A grunt in the corner drew his attention, and he weaved his way around the clothing and linens piled on the floor, finally setting eyes on the young painter.<br/>
<br/>
He sat on the floor with his back against a wall, his knees cocked at an angle and a brush held loosely in his hand. There was a silk weighted neatly in front of him, more of the splashes of black and faded grey, but this one contained glimpses, delicate gashes of red streaks.<br/>
<br/>
Atem paid it little mind, kneeling. “Yuugi? I hear you haven’t left your room in some time.”<br/>
<br/>
The response he got was a single shrug of a shoulder. The young man’s eyes were dull and unfocused, affixed on the silk in front of him. There was another pewter platter beside him, small balls stacked in a neat triamid within arm’s reach.<br/>
<br/>
Atem’s gaze softened. “Have you been eating? I’ve been told you are requesting a lot of <em>majoun</em> from the kitchens.”<br/>
<br/>
Another half-hearted shrug as Yuugi shifted his weight forward, setting the paintbrush down and adjusting the silk so that Atem could no longer get a good look at it. “I like them,” he said simply. His voice dragged over the words as though they were unfamiliar, as though he were out of practice, still sharp and yet not quite a slur.<br/>
<br/>
“Mhmm,” Atem said uncertainly, making a show of looking around. “Perhaps it’s time to step outside for a while. Go to the market, get yourself some supplies and let the servants come in and – “<br/>
<br/>
“’M fine,” Yuugi brushed him off, rising with a stagger and moving for his desk. He grabbed one of the glasses on the surface and made to drink from it, frustrated when he found that it was empty. “Have all I need here,” he said thickly, his throat constricting around the words a bit as he waved an arm absently.<br/>
<br/>
“Mhmm. Maybe, then, you’d like to tell me about some of these paintings, then – I see you’ve been busy, although they aren’t,” he hesitated here, searching for the right word, “they aren’t your usual work. Help me gather some of them, and we’ll take them to a room with better light. I’m particularly interested in this one.”<br/>
<br/>
As he shifted to for the silk that still lay on the floor, Yuugi burst to life, a swirl of motion that placed his body in between the prince and the painting. “No!” he shouted, perhaps unaware of how loudly his voice rang in the space. His complexion was clammy, Atem could see now, and his breath came in sighs. “No, that one – that one isn’t – it’s just for me.”<br/>
<br/>
In the movement, Atem had gotten a closer glimpse at the shapes that flowed together on the silk: a woman in motion, a dancer, scarves in a flurry around her, red streaking her face as she fell into a larger pool of red.</p>
<hr/><p>The air smelt so much <em>different</em>. It was heavy and sweet and dry and Yuugi relished in the way it moved across his face when he was finally able to drag himself upright from over the railing of the ship. Everything was different here; although most of his journey had been overland across the continent, he had spent nights in places that had some resemblance to home. Even the ferry ride itself; though he hadn’t had much opportunity to cross water at home, he <em>had</em> come from a fishing town, and the salt spray on his face was a comfort.<br/>
<br/>
But once he stepped foot on blessed, steady land once more, despite the buckle in his knees his eyes were alight in wonder. Every city had its bustle, but this wasn’t like the languorous raucousness of Rome, or the calculated flow of Ankara. No, Fes had a directness to it, a brusque command to know what you were doing or to get out of the way.<br/>
<br/>
He did not know what he was doing, and he let the city swallow him.<br/>
<br/>
He spent hours simply wandering, moving in and out of main streets and alleys until his legs tired and he sat to rest, only to be immediately swarmed with local children fascinated with his pack, his eyes, his hair. He allowed them to drag him along with them, taking in the cafes with their shooting streams of frothing green tea, the markets with their enormous sacks of vibrant spices, the tapestries, the lanterns.<br/>
<br/>
As with many stops along his route, he had not necessarily planned ahead for lodging. Luckily, he had a particular knack to endear himself, and a kind local or two would usually allow him into their midst – if they charged him rent, it was cheap. Here, though, while there were plenty of offers, they were detached, though the rent was certainly not.<br/>
<br/>
Exhausted from so much stimulation and solicitation, he finally collapsed into the seat of a coffeeshop, fumbling his way through a request for tea, trying again in his terribly accented French before the proprietor caught the familiar sound and gave him a knowing smile and returned with a tray.<br/>
<br/>
Yuugi’s eyes alighted anew when she performed the brief ritual of pouring the tea from increasing heights; he had to restrain himself from clapping his hands together when she finally presented the cup to him, frothy and sweet-smelling. The look in his eyes, though, must have shone his awe, and she blushed prettily at him as she walked away.<br/>
<br/>
The tea was unlike anything he had ever had – it wasn’t grassy and bright as he was used to from tea at home, nor the fresh seafoam of expensive teas: it was deeply earthy, the sweetness sticking in the back of his throat, its strength bringing tears to his eyes. Yuugi blinked back his shock at the first deep sip, making a small sound of shock as he gently placed the cup back onto the mosaic table.<br/>
<br/>
At a table a short distance from him, a blonde stranger laughed at his reaction, setting his own glass down and leaning toward him. “Not from around here, are you, boy?” The stranger spoke in French, having must have heard Yuugi’s exchange with the proprietor, but his was also heavily accented, coarse and rough.<br/>
<br/>
A quick glance at the stranger, and Yuugi smiled openly at him. “Is it that obvious?”<br/>
<br/>
“Couldn’t be more obvious if you were naked, pal. I’d ask where you’re from if I thought I’d know where it was.” With a grin, the stranger waved Yuugi over to join him at his table, nudging the stool opposite him with a foot.<br/>
<br/>
The exchanged names, and the stranger introduced himself as Jounouchi – Yuugi perked up in delight. “Ah! That name sounds like it’s from my home!”<br/>
<br/>
Jounouchi canted his head, a blank look on his face. “Couldn’t tell ya where it’s from, but my name’s my name. What about you, though? What are you even doing so far from home?”<br/>
<br/>
“Ah,” Yuugi said, twisting to reach into one of the packs he carried. He dug out a container, popped it open, and gently handed one of his paintings to Jounouchi. The other man took it by the corners with his fingertips with exaggerated care, examining the ink painting. “I’m a painter!”<br/>
<br/>
“Man, this is real good stuff – I haven’t really seen much like it. How d’you get it to do the…the see-through bit?” Jounouchi gestured with his pinky to the stroke that had made up a cloud.<br/>
<br/>
“It’s about pressure,” Yuugi explained, taking the parchment back delicately to gesture. “A lot of the components – here, here – they’re one brush stroke with ink, so the real skill is in changing the concentration of the ink to the paper. I…” He paused at the other man’s blank look. “I pull back and don’t press the brush down as hard.”<br/>
<br/>
“Ah, wow – and you do that all the time? But what does that have to do with you coming here? We don’t have that kind of painting here.”<br/>
<br/>
“And I think that’s why this’ll be where I find it.” Yuggi rolled the parchment and stored it back in its cannister, nestling it back among its fellows. “My mentor back at home, he keeps telling me I’m missing something, but that I can’t find it if I look in all the same places I have been – so I left, and I’m searching.”<br/>
<br/>
The expression on Jounouchi’s face was rapt. “Searching for what?”<br/>
<br/>
A small smile crept across Yuugi’s lips, and he shrugged lightly. “The thing that can be shown, but not seen.”<br/>
<br/>
“Wha-?”<br/>
<br/>
Yuugi laughed. “Beats me. If I knew what it was, I wouldn’t have to look for it. But I think I’m getting close.”<br/>
<br/>
There was a glint in Jounouchi’s eye that turned conspiratorial. “I think I know something that might help – I’ll take you somewhere that’ll open your eyes. First thing, though, you got somewhere to stay?”<br/>
<br/>
“Ah-ha.” Yuugi chuckled anxiously, rubbing the back of his head. “I normally find one by this point, but so far it hasn’t really been lack of options, but is everything always so expensive around here?”<br/>
<br/>
Jounouchi cursed. “Thought so. These landlords’ll gouge the price sky-high for a foreign kid like yourself. Tell you what, you can stay with me for a little while – I can just tell you’re gonna need someone to watch over you.”<br/>
<br/>
So they paid for their tea and Jounouchi took Yuugi back to his home, a modest room overlooking a market. From the protective hand Jounouchi placed on Yuugi’s shoulder, he got the impression that this was perhaps not the safest part of town, and clung his bags closer to him. Allowing him a place to set his things, they got to know each other bit by bit, and Jounouchi finally dragged him back out the door.<br/>
<br/>
“One of my favorite places in the city – owner’s a bit of an asshole, but he’s got the best girls and <em>shisha</em> in town, so it’s worth the hassle,” his new friend explained, dragging him through the crowd toward an out-of-the way building.<br/>
<br/>
“Jounouchi,” the proprietor, a tall man with sharp blue eyes, drawled as Yuugi’s new friend ducked under the curtain in the entryway. “Didn’t I tell you not to come back unless you could settle your bill?”<br/>
<br/>
“Eat shit, Seth. I’ve never touched one of your girls without paying her – I’m not some kinda thief scum.”<br/>
<br/>
Seth snorted, not looking up from the ledger he was poring over. “Her rate, not mine. If you want to negotiate your own rates, maybe you should dig yourself out of the hovel you live in and just buy one. Who’s this, another friend of yours? I hope you don’t intend to try to stiff me as well, I’m beginning to lose my patience.”<br/>
<br/>
Jounouchi raised a fist in front of himself defensively. “Whatever issues you got with Honda, you take that up with him – Yuugi’s got nothing to do with that, he’s new here.”<br/>
<br/>
“I don’t care.” Those cold eyes landed on Yuugi. “Can you pay?”<br/>
<br/>
“Um!”<br/>
<br/>
Startled, Yuugi dug into his pockets, reflexively pulling out a fistful of coins – he hadn’t yet had the chance to visit a bank to convert his currency, but this didn’t seem to bother Seth, who plucked a gold piece from Yuugi’s palm and bit into it, nodding his satisfaction as he swiped the rest of the coinage from Yuugi’s palm and deposited it onto the ledger. “This’ll do. Feel free to bring him back, Jounouchi, and maybe your friend will be able to shovel you out of debt.”<br/>
<br/>
Before Yuugi had the chance to object, Seth waved a dismissive hand allowing them entry and focused back onto his ledger, counting each coin with a long, deliberate finger.<br/>
<br/>
Dazed, Yuugi continued into the building, Jounouchi grumbling behind him. “You can’t let him take alla your money like that, he’ll ask for the same amount next time.”<br/>
<br/>
“Do you really owe him money, Jounouchi? I have more money – it’s the least I can do to pay your tab, since you’re giving me a place to stay.”<br/>
<br/>
It must have been the dim light, but Yuugi thought he saw a flush of embarrassment creep across the other man’s face. “No way – I’m not a thief, I said. I work if out with the girls, and for some extra security for the night, they give me a discount. It’s a service for a service, but that asshole doesn’t see it that way.”<br/>
<br/>
Amused, Yuugi let out a chuckle. “What entrepreneurial spirit. Maybe you should see if that guy will hire you.”<br/>
<br/>
The aghast noise that left Jounouchi’s throat brought the matter to a close, and Yuugi let his friend guide him through the main lobby of the building, several low tables and seating cushions dotting the floor. Lanterns cast a warm glow over the walls and the stone of the floor, and young women and men flitted about gracefully. Some of the tables already had patrons, seated languorously and puffing smoke rings into the air.<br/>
<br/>
Jounouchi led them to a table with a familiar setup.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh, <em>nargile</em>! I’ve used one of these before – they were all over in Ankara.”<br/>
<br/>
“What? Oh, <em>shisha</em> – dunno about Ankara, but you’re gonna love it here. Hey!” He called out to a nearby young woman, asking her a question in Arabic, and she laughed prettily, patting his forearm. They continued the exchange for a moment before she spun on her heel, Jounouching giving her bottom an affectionate pat as she left. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder after her. “Goin’ ta get a friend of mine, I promised I’d come see her today.”<br/>
<br/>
“’Promise’ is a strong word, Jounouchi,” interjected a rich voice, and in a swirl of heady jasmine perfume, a woman who seemed comprised of all curves seated herself comfortably next to him. She batted her eyelashes at Jounouchi. “That implies I was waiting for you.”<br/>
<br/>
Jounouchi hooked a finger under her chin and lifted her face to his – though he put on a façade of harsh masculinity, his face softened when their eyes locked. “You came when I called, didn’t you?”<br/>
<br/>
“Mm.” The woman adjusted to all fours, leaning her face in that much closer to his. “Because you owe me money.”<br/>
<br/>
“Gah!” Jounouchi pressed his palm gently against her face and pushed her away as she barked out a laugh. “Not you, too – I thought we had an arrangement, Mai?”<br/>
<br/>
“Arrangements can change, Jounouchi,” she purred, going through the process of setting up and lighting the <em>shisha</em>. She flipped a wave of golden hair over her shoulder, and Yuugi was once again hit with a waft of star jasmine. “If the boss says you owe money, it seems to me that you owe money. Are you saying I’m not worth it?” She fluttered her eyelashes again, her lips pouting prettily at him.<br/>
<br/>
“Gaaaah, sometimes I wonder about that.”<br/>
<br/>
The woman named Mai turned to Yuugi for the first time, winking brightly at him. “He thinks he holds the cards here,” she said to him in a stage whisper, taking a draw from the pipe, vapor curling out of her mouth in a luxurious stream, before she handed it to him. “Go on, kiddo. Loosen up – show’s starting soon.”<br/>
<br/>
With that, she rose, pecking Jounouchi lightly on the nose and dancing away with a laugh as he reached for her. Turning back to Yuugi, Jounouchi echoed Mai’s, “Go on,” with a short hand motion, so he did, handing the pipe over.<br/>
<br/>
The first pass wasn’t much special, a bit of lightness, a weight lifted from his body as he relaxed into his surroundings, settling on the cushion. The second felt a bit like taking a draught of water after days of dehydration, the sensation flushing through his system deliciously.<br/>
<br/>
He lost count after that, and the lights around him began to blend into one another; the music suddenly became very apparent, a beat that pounded in time with his heart and lifted him from his body. He lost track of his face, but he was certain he was smiling.<br/>
<br/>
“What kind of tobacco is this?” he heard his corporeal self ask distantly.<br/>
<br/>
“Tobacco?” The face in Jounouchi’s direction split near the bottom into an expanse rather like a grin. “No, buddy, this isn’t tobacco.”<br/>
<br/>
At some point he could not quite define, more of the tables had filled, and a cloud hung in the air, and the lights grew colorful and the music grew heated; men and women undulated about the tables, some seated and sharing in the <em>shisha</em> with the patrons, some moving about and fetching food, drink, merriment. From the corner of his eye, he saw men being led away by the wrist.<br/>
<br/>
A curtain drew across a doorway, and there, through the misty haze of vapor and opium was the most beautiful thing that Yuugi had ever seen.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy Valentine’s y’all! Finally my long-awaited (for me) Moulin Rouge AU. I’m glad I gave myself a while to plan this one, because first I couldn’t decide on the setting, and then I discovered that researching the setting is fucking difficult unless I want to go for like a real deep dive. Google’s become kinda useless lmao </p><p>Anyway, I’ve had this in the works for a good while now, since around December, and I’m glad it’s finally coming to life. The hope is that it’ll be quite a bit different than my other fics, and function as a nice stylistic experiment for me. This will by and large follow the overall plot of the film, but there’ll still be some differences – the structure is there, but the details are different.</p><p>I debated making Atem the villain, annnnnnnnd still might? Kinda? We’ll see how this evolves. I’ve been watching season 0, so there’ll definitely be some influences there.</p><p>For those who don’t know and don’t feel like Googling it (which is totally fair): a majoun is a Middle Eastern (usually Moroccan, but there are other spellings and varieties) edible, essentially. They’re like honey and dates and raisins and nuts with cannabis or opium (or both, according to some sources from the 50’s). Additionally, nargile/shisha are the Turkish/Moroccan vernacular for hookah.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Diamond Dogs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“The Egyptian king has arranged for his son to visit tonight.” Seth gently replaced the stopper on the perfume bottle and fixed you with a sharp look. “I don’t think I should have to tell you how important this is.”<br/>
<br/>
“Mm, and here you are.” You fluttered your lashes at him through the mirror, dragging the pouf across your collarbone. “What do you think, enough rouge?”<br/>
<br/>
A snort. “You’re wearing rouge?”<br/>
<br/>
“Hint taken. Hand it to me?” You took the pot he placed into your outstretched hand, dabbing it onto your cheeks. “Stop fussing, I’ll have the boy eating out of the palm of my hand by midnight.”<br/>
<br/>
“He is <em>a prince</em>.”<br/>
<br/>
You turned on your heel to face him, sidling in close and pressing your hands to his cheeks tenderly, forcing him to meet your eyes. “Just this once I wish you would trust me.”<br/>
<br/>
Seth snorted again, a hand coming up firmly to grip your wrist. “Trusting people is what got me here.”<br/>
<br/>
Given the nature of your relationship, he didn’t give you many glimpses into his personal life, but that was one that reared its head every so often. You patted his cheek gently, tugging back on your wrists for him to release you. “I haven’t failed you yet. Do you know what his type is?”<br/>
<br/>
The rumors had been circulating around town for a little while now that a foreign royal would be visiting, and as soon as news broke, Seth had pounced on it, using every ounce of his pull to garner attention from the aging king – when it was discovered that it wasn’t a senile old man who would be visiting, but his son, Seth had begun the process of gathering information, sending his spies out to track the young man’s every movement, from the palace in Alexandria to the streets of Fes.<br/>
<br/>
Before answering your question, Seth hesitated, and a small part of you knew that he was debating on emphasizing your <em>yet</em> – in a rare show of restraint, though, he ignored it and moved on. “He likes new experiences – avoid demure kitten, I’m sure he’s tired of it.”<br/>
<br/>
Arranging your kit about you, you winked into the mirror at him. “Smoldering temptress it is. And he wants to invest?”<br/>
<br/>
“<em>Hmph</em>.” Seth crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against a bureau. “That might be strong word. If I can convince him you’re worth the <em>investment</em>, I’ll count myself lucky.”<br/>
<br/>
<em>Wait a second</em>. You stopped fussing with your silks immediately and spun on your heel to face him again. “That isn’t what we agreed on, Seth. I’ve been working this hard this long –“<br/>
<br/>
“Because you don’t have a choice. I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but I own you.”<br/>
<br/>
Your jaw tightened, and you met his eyes, the fire in yours clashing against the ice in his. “We had an arrangement,” you ground out slowly.<br/>
<br/>
“Arrangements can change. Relax, if you do as well as you seem to think you will, then you’ll still get your freedom.”<br/>
<br/>
“It isn’t freedom to move from one master to another.” Your throat tightened around the words, but you held your composure.<br/>
<br/>
The cool mask never slipped. “Then make sure he invests in the right way.” Reaching forward abruptly, he pressed the back of his finger gently against the corner of your eye – in spite of yourself, a tear had sprung up. “Watch it,” he said crisply, “your makeup will run. I personally don’t care what he does – but it would be mutually beneficial if you could convince him to invest in the business, rather than purchase my stock, like his father has planned. You’re a good source of revenue that I’d hate to lose, but if they make a bid I’m not going to turn it down.”<br/>
<br/>
He turned to leave, and without looking back at you he said, “Chin up, smile on,” before he cleared the door.<br/>
<br/>
You took a second to compose yourself, powdering your face absently so that you could ignore the shaking in your hands. Yes, it was technically true that he owned you, but you had spent years, over a decade, working down that debt – arguably, you were the bordello’s biggest draw, and although the others had their regulars as well, none came to see them as frequently as word-of-mouth drew customers in for you.<br/>
<br/>
<em>The Sparkling Diamond</em>. Seth had heard the name whispered in reference to you, and he had come to use it sardonically; <em>“There’s my Sparkling Diamond, are you ready to make me a full crown tonight?<br/>
<br/>
</em>You had initially resented it, had to bite your cheek and put on your largest, most false smile to cover the rage that burned in your heart. You had been young then. Over time, you had adjusted, and leaned as hard as you could into the name: you bought oils from the apothecary and brushed them into your hair until it shone, and shimmering powder with which you dusted every inch of your body so that it would catch the low light and make you shine like a flickering star, and perhaps most importantly, you learned to speak with your eyes.<br/>
<br/>
It was a skill that every girl in the bordello had, to an extent, but you had elevated it to an art. Every whore could use her eyes to say <em>“I want you (to want me)”</em>, but you had found a little more nuance: <em>“I want you to take me far from this place”</em> or <em>“I never want to leave your side and when you have left I will be bereft”</em>. Etcetera.<br/>
<br/>
And they lapped it up, that glimmer in your eye, every last one of them. Something about “<em>they had never been so vulnerable with another human before.” </em>And you would allow a tear to come to your eye as you turned away, insisting that they must leave before it became too hard, fleeing from the room to find yourself a snack and to watch them scurry from the building into the night streets like the rats they were.<br/>
<br/>
Well, that was all about to change. If you were lucky enough – <em>no, not lucky, skilled</em> – then you were one more trick away from buying out your debt and washing your hands clean. And it all, you thought with a decided <em>paf</em> of your powder pouf, hinged on tonight’s performance.<br/>
<br/>
Across the hall, you heard the bustle of some of the younger, newer girls putting themselves together excitedly – they bickered over lost rouge, over who shared whose powders the night before, and excitedly babbled about new perfumed oils and shiny baubles that Seth had bought for them. You glanced up when your own roommates glided into the room, all business, seating themselves before the mirrors and vanity with purpose.<br/>
<br/>
“What do you think?” Anzu asked you, a light flickering in her too-blue eyes. “Think tonight’ll be the night you let me try some of that shimmer powder of yours? I’m low on mine,” she added with a mischievous wink.<br/>
<br/>
Mai laughed, daubing cinnamon oil onto her lips with a practiced fingertip. “But then she wouldn’t be the <em>Sparkling Diamond</em> anymore,” she mocked, leaning forward to clean and reapply the kohl around her eyes.<br/>
<br/>
Unbothered, you shrugged, <em>puffing</em> Anzu playfully on the nose. “Wouldn’t want to cover up those sapphire eyes you got – you don’t need anymore shimmer than your smile.”<br/>
<br/>
“The words of someone who doesn’t want competition.”<br/>
<br/>
In spite of yourself, you bristled, and you couldn’t help returning the petty jibe. “Don’t know why you’re applying more perfume, Mai – I’m sure Jounouchi can smell you just fine from here, and it isn’t the scent of jasmine he comes for.”<br/>
<br/>
Mai snorted. “At least I’m not naïve enough to think that he’s going to buy my way out of here. Help me with this, will you?”<br/>
<br/>
You fluttered your lashes at her coyly through the mirror, twisting a lock of her hair into position. “Maybe if your personality were sweeter, someone would have reason to,” you returned, sliding the bobby pin into her hair perhaps a touch rougher than you meant.<br/>
<br/>
She laughed away the barb, unbothered. “Oh, honey, it isn’t sweetness that gets us our freedom. If you haven’t learned that yet, you’ll never leave.” She swirled once for the mirror before, satisfied, she slinked back into the main room, where you could hear a low, steady drumbeat begin to play.<br/>
<br/>
Shaking her head, Anzu scarcely looked up from the short series of stretches she was performing. “It’s hard to tell you two are close.” Gracefully, she swiveled her hips in one direction, then the next in warmup, then tapped her toes en pointe rhythmically in short bursts.<br/>
<br/>
“We’re all close here, aren’t we? No choice.” You pecked her lightly on the cheek as she made her way out.<br/>
<br/>
With one last glance at the mirror, you caught your eye and mouthed to yourself a promise:<br/>
<br/>
<em>It starts tonight</em>.</p>
<hr/><p>“How will I know which one is him?” You peeked out from behind the thick layers of curtains.</p><p><br/>
A snort. “Are you losing your touch? You used to be able to mark the richest man in the room from across the street.”<br/>
<br/>
Your eyes flashed at him, but you kept your face mild. “This is too big an opportunity to make such a silly mistake, isn’t it?”<br/>
<br/>
A small smirk of agreement quirked the corner of Seth’s lips until he cast his glance into the crowd. He cursed. “He’s sitting next to that fool Jounouchi – I need to get him away from there – “<br/>
<br/>
“You worry too much. I’ll make sure I keep his attention.” Once more, softly, you patted his cheek. “Go be a dear and count your money – I want you to know exactly how much I’ve earned you by the time this is through.”<br/>
<br/>
He turned to leave, but hesitated briefly. His hands came down gently on your shoulders, and he leaned in so close you felt his breath on your ear, drawing the downy hairs on the nape of your neck to attention. “I already know – it’s you that doesn’t, isn’t it?”<br/>
<br/>
You tried not to let him psych you out – it was a performance you had done a million times, you were certain you knew the steps in your sleep. Still, you closed your eyes, set against the chill that crawled up your spine. It was as any other time, you tried to remind yourself, but it wasn’t. It was more important, and you couldn’t shake the feeling.<br/>
<br/>
Despite the heavy smoke and vapor mist in the air, with each steady breath you took, you felt the slap of salt water against your face – the memory of the sea singing its calming lullaby to you, even though the memory of the sea was of building waves and wretched screams against the wind. You remembered shouts in a language you no longer knew, you remembered the lightning streaking across the sky.<br/>
<br/>
If you dug in further, you thought you could reach back, back into the warm cabin of the sloop, the candlelight licking the walls, gently caressing the face of a woman with a sharp nose and sharper brows over gentle eyes, humming, singing murmurs of that same language.<br/>
<br/>
You let yourself stay as an infant in that woman’s arms, even as you opened your eyes and flourished your arms in time with the curtain. You let her cradlesong drift over you, felt her warm breath on your brow as sweat began to dot and bead with the exertion of your swirling hips and dips and spins.<br/>
<br/>
Eventually, you opened your mouth and began to call out in that same language; you did not know what the words meant, but you didn’t need to. You knew it was a song of better things, of fierce independence, of the changeable and the intractable, and of the things one must to do to survive.<br/>
<br/>
You knew, you knew in your heart, that your mother’s last lullaby was one of survival.<br/>
<br/>
As you moved, you kept careful track of the route about the room that you took, swerving between the tables and underneath reaching hands. None of them were for you tonight, and you were not for them. Regrounding yourself in the present, you cast a searching glance about the room: Seth was not there to guide you, so you took his cue from earlier and sought out Jounouchi.<br/>
<br/>
There.<br/>
<br/>
And beside him, you were certain, was the prince. It had to be. He was a little small, but who were you to say what royalty looked like? His eyes locked on yours as though they had never ventured anywhere else and would never dream of it, and in them you saw a brightness, a curiosity. For the briefest moment, you felt the lure of being as lost in those eyes as they were in yours.<br/>
<br/>
Raising your chin haughtily, you puffed out your chest, straightened your shoulders for the finale. It was a scene you knew by rote, and moved through the motions with the same ease as you did rolling out of bed. You rolled your hips, letting the motion guide you in gliding motions through and about, deftly maneuvering to the table with those bright violet eyes.<br/>
<br/>
The saltwater misted your face one final time as the last note trailed from your lips, and in a flutter of silks you deposited yourself into his lap, your hand trailing down the side of his face. You dropped your voice to a husky whisper, leaning forward until your lips hovered over his ear. “I believe you are expecting me.”<br/>
<br/>
Uncertain hands gripped your hips and drew you back, those eyes scanning your face like a man seeking water in the desert.<br/>
<br/>
“Yes. Oh my – yes.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This fic might update more slowly than Culture Shock at first, but it should pick up here in a couple chapters - since this has a bit more of a set timeline, unless I decide to go hog-wild with the backstories (which I accidentally created more than I actually wanted lmao). I've more or less decided that Atem isn't really gonna be a villainous presence in this. We can thank Shakira for that.</p><p>I honestly wasn't expecting that much of a turnout for this fic, but I was pleased to see the kudos left by Crystalia and guests! I appreciate your support, thank you so much!</p><p>If you're liking what you're seeing and you'd like to see more of me, check out my writing Tumblr <a href="https://tcheschirewrites.tumblr.com">tcheschirewrites</a>. I spam writing memes and YGO things and I'm always happy to answer asks!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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